Diary of a Toy Slayer named Sid
by Lavenderpaw
Summary: By day he's a garbage man, by night it's more complicated. He's Sid the Toy Slayer bum bum bum bum bum Sid the Toy Slayer dum dum dum dum He'll exact his rightful revenge, protecting others from toys new or vintage; for he's Sid the Toy Slayer. Dadum!
1. Diary 1

**I. **

Entry 1. Sid Phillips watches the demon toys get thrown out.

It was a typical day in the life of me. My current girlfriend was right at jailbait age if my old man ever needed bail money; my mom was off with her twenty-something-younger boyfriend and my little sister Hannah was at some hokey youth group thing. I swear; the kid's been holding crap against me ever since we were younger. Well, there I was in my awesome threads and rockin' music set. As I passed by this younger dude's house, I saw to my absolute amazement the cowboy doll who had caused me five years of therapy, two years of learning to say the word 'toy' again without fainting and a good fifteen years of having everyone think I was crazy – which is probably one of the reasons I dropped out.

The scene from my backyard is as clear to me even today.

"_We toys_…" I still shudder when I remember, "_can see everything."_

To this day I've never been able to think straight. After spending the vast majority of my time in the attic writing 'I will never harm my toys again' I eventually returned to normal life and tried to gather the remains of my sanity – after asking my mother to cleanse all of my room with holy water and having my old man cover our whole backyard with cement.

That's right, my demon toys were still there and I covered them with cement.

See, after the whole experience I went straight and started attending church regularly. Not now, of course, and the whole sitting through church and singing praises. Nah. I was only there for confession. And boy, when I unloaded on that guy did I _ever _unload on that guy.

"Young Sid, how many times did you attempt to commit arson to your toys this year?"

"Uh… I lost count at fifty-two. No wait. A hundred and ninety-six times."

"Son, you do realize you are an absolute abomination."

"Sir, you do realize I know what you do on your 'religious retreats'."

It's pretty obvious where that phase of my life went.

But there I was, in the present day of June the 18th 2010, seeing that _same _cowboy doll in the plastic flesh running after a garbage bag. My heart started pounding and my palms got to sweating. I waited until the garbage truck came to a complete stop, narrowed my really deep, handsome eyes and sailed across the street gracefully to exact my rightful revenge.

"Watch it, punk!" some yelled: blaring their horn.

That's when the toy looked up at me and the plastic threading of the garbage bag came undone and they – _they_ all saw me. I didn't know most of them; except for that recalled Buzz Light-year who the science-like people had found contained a deadly, flammable chemical capable of blowing the entire Tri-state area up; but I knew from the completely creeped out looks on the other toys' faces that they knew me. And Reverend Stalks as my witness, if I didn't exact my revenge on those toys, then, well – who else was going to?

I gave them the 'I'm watching you' two-finger eye thing.

For when we saw each other again, I would be donning a new alter-ego.

Which I would dub… uh, let me think.

Oh, OK!

Sid the TOY SLAYER!

End entry 1.

**A/N: **Hey, if it 'aint your cup of tea, don't drink it. ;)


	2. Diary 2

**I. **Entry 2 – Convincing the amateur fashion designer to help a brawdar man out.

"Whatever it is…" Hannah said from behind the chain-latched door, "the answer is-."

"Maybe."

"Probably not, actually. But go on."

"I need a costume." I said with a desperate look, "And I know you do those plays-."

"Reenactments!" My seventeen-year-old sister declared. "Religious reenactments, Sid."

"Right, right. I need a-."

"Reproduction."

"Right. I need a 'reproduction' of a superhero costume with all of the following…"

Hannah snagged the list from me and scanned it over quickly, "Skulls, flaming arrows…"

"So," I crammed my boot through the door before she slammed it. "How's Scud?"

She gave me an annoyed look and crossed her arms, "Stuffed. He always ate like a cow."

"Can I see'im?"

"Why?"

"Please."

"Oh, God, fine. I'll get to work on this but you're paying full-price."

"Sweet." I said as she unlatched the door to our old house and let me in, "Hate ya, sis."

"Can't stand ya, bro." Hannah replied and sauntered into the backroom.

"Where's the rents?"

"Where they always are, Sid." She called out exaggeratedly, "And keep your mitts off of my reproductions, I need to see if I even have the right materials. Plant it and shut it bro."

"So loving!" I called.

"So caring!" My sister called back.

"Oh, there ya are Scuddy." I rubbed the head of my dog that had died eight years ago.

…

"Well," Hannah came out, "This is the best I could do."

"Hannah, what've you done!"

I looked at myself in the mirror.

"You're the one with the toy fix."

"At least it's a useful fix, dang it." I argued, in the mirror I had on a cowboy suit. It had a pink velvet vest, a sunflower sheriff bag, sunflower-lined white hat with pink trim, a kind of yellow-lined white shirt with long sleeves, crotch – strangling black jeans and leathery white cowboy boots – with sunflower spurs (-_-). "Hell if I'm gonna wear this, Hannah."

"I tried." She shrugged.

"You failed. Ugh! Forget it, I'm just gonna trick out my vagabond threads and roll."

"Take it easy, you're so sleazy."

"Good luck, you suck."

We hugged briefly and I left.

There was only so much time I had before I was going to make my first strike.

That night. Muuuwwwahahaha!

To be continued…


	3. Diary 3

**I. **- The legendary training session.

Late day was cool as the young slayer bowed down to the gracefully setting sun.

"Whoo!" He declared as he swung his staff around. "Hi-yow!"

The adult of middle twenties kept a rhythm going as he swung the long wooden stick around in a circular motion, concentrating on striking in just the right place. _Cowboy doll. _Strike! _And right there – a Buzz Light-year! _Whack! He chanted his manta from yesterday, swinging around and around the staff. Finally, just before he struck himself in the head, someone called out for him.

"Phillips? What the hell!.? Get your lazy butt back to work before it becomes a carcass."

"You mean you're gonna fire me?"

"I mean I'm gonna set your dang butt on fire if you don't get to starting that furnace."

"All right, sir."

"What the hell are you doin' anyway?"

"It's part of my karate class."

Mr. Nickels scratched his balding scalp. "Yeah, um, whatever. Just make sure it gets done!"

"Yes, sir!" Sid saluted him and went over to start the furnace. "Man, when I find those toys…"

There were shouts and screams coming from the inside of the large metal contraption.

"We're all in this together!"

"Lotso help us!"

"What's he doing?"

"Then," Sid walked over to his Toyota truck, thrust in his staff and took out his drumsticks.

He didn't notice as a purple blur ran past him.

"I'm gonna jam out to my favorite rock band in celebration!"

A giant crane suddenly rose up and dropped into the furnace as Sid hopped into the truck and pulled away in high spirits. He noticed some kind of walking eggplant in the middle of the road but collided right into it – he was use to such hallucinations, especially when he was on all of his heavy medication. "He should be fine," the doctor had said, "Make sure to take it easy my boy."

"Like that happened!" Sid laughed loudly.

He didn't notice as a cowboy hat ran behind his truck; he had gotten a good look at the car that had been parked outside the house where his encounter with the toys had taken place just the other day. "And once I look up the plate number on Look-up-Licence-dot-com I will finally exact...

my revenge. REVENGE! Bruhahahahahaha! And with my keen eye and acute hearing..."

"Hey, you, license plate hatin' guy, stop this truck and look on the front of it! I'm a bear, damnit!"

"Hmm." Sid patted his ear. "I've gotta start taking those meds again."

He drove off into what was now night, ready to begin his quest to protect others in need.

"Sid the Toy Slayer strikes... _**tonight!**_"

...


	4. Diary 4

**I. **That next morning which I assume the events took place because I forgot…

"You sure this is gonna work?" Sid asked Tito.

"As sure as my name is Tito," the man replied as he set the large furnace that he and Sid were at from broil to boil, "I've got all of this cool crap on Alchemy and everything, my friend. You take metals; in this case, these recalled toys..." He dumped the toy soldiers in.

"Serge!"

"Yeah?"

"A good solider is always honest…"

"Yeah, and?"

"We should've stuck with the other toys sir."

"Don't even think about A-WAAAAAAH!"

The furnace heated to its maximum temperature.

Sid and Tito weren't aware of them.

"I always liked soldiers, more then spacemen and cowboy dolls."

"Yeah, well, anyway… once the cadmium and lead melt, you say the spell and WHAM!"

"You mean, I'll have the power to turn metal to gold and use it to crush my enemies?"

"Uh, no, Sid. Lord, it's just a role-playing game we made out of this toy recall game."

"Oh," He leaned against the unheated outside. "So why the hell am I here again?"

"For… _this_!" His overweight friend produced a genuine full-bodied Zurg suit.

"Oh my freaking GOSH!" Sid exclaimed excitedly. "Tito, man, what'd I owe you?"

"A kiss."

"No seriously…?"

"I am serious."

"Yeah," Sid slipped him a wad of bills. "Here's fifty." He left, giddy with excitement.

…

The day had finally come to an end when Sid had gotten off work. With Tito and Hannah (who were both paid of course) on a stake out on either side of a particular street that Sid knew a particular toy had told an unparticular teenage kid to drive them, they waited. He really had no clue who the geek was, the boy looked barely legal age and was more likely then not a retired emo. Candy, he had decided to call him, was out playing with a young girl four times younger then himself. And aside from the fact that Sid thought the ex-emo was in an age regression, he felt that Candy's refusal to give up the toy cowboy was most definitely a confirmation that the toys were mind-controlling him. It was all Sid needed…

… As Candy - or Andy, as the two ladies who lived there had called him, drove away…

"You!" He jumped out from behind the bushes where he hid, his electric sphere gun out and ready to aim. "Cowboy doll…" the gun leveled downwards, "Reach for the sky -,"

And, in absolute amazement, Sid watched as the look on the cowboy doll's face changed.

"That's right," He nodded certainly now as the other toys came alive and huddled up.

"Mommy!" The little girl Molly screamed and ran for cover behind her and her grandma.

"Phillips," uttered the cowboy doll.

"Wimpy…" He cocked the gun and lowered its open barrel down, "And Light beer," Sid glanced over at the glaring space ranger. "I suppose you'd like to add a quip or two huh?"

"Like 'To Infinity and Beyond'!" a green dinosaur asked obliviously.

"Not quite," His finger grasped the trigger.

"Sid."

"What?"

"Can we talk about this?" the cowboy doll grinned enticingly.

"Let me think… uh, NO!" He grinned deviously. "So here're you and your rebel friends."

…

To be continued…


	5. Diary 5

**I. **

"Emperor Zurg!" Someone declared.

They all turned as one; except Sid who had to readjust his helmet to a sixty degree angle and saw that a life-sized Buzz Lightyear was headed towards them. His arm was out and his laser-pointer was directed at Sid's head. He growled and lifted his cannon to stop him.

"Lightyear."

"Zurg."

"Who the hell are you really?" Sid demanded.

"I'm glad you asked that," the blue-eyed, blonde-haired man in the Buzz suit said.

A moment passed.

_"Well?" _

"Well," He slipped on a purple shower cap, "I…am… ANDY!"

"Andy?" Woody gasped. "You… you know we're alive!"

"Huh? I have no idea what you mean."

"Andy, it's _us!" _Rex insisted.

"Don't'cha know us?" Slinky said.

"Uh, I have no idea what your talkin' about."

Zurg and Buzz Lightyear circled one another in crouched positions.

"You will be your downfall." Sid told him.

Andy dropped his laser-point arm. "What?"

"Ha-ha, an opening!" He shot a ball straight to his chest.

"Yo-YAAAAAAAAAH!" Andy war-whopped as he sliced in half with his laser.

"E-gads!" Sid exclaimed.

"Andy, oh my god!" The mother tried to get between them.

"I don't know what your talking about." He grinned at her. "I'm Buzz Light-YEH!"

Sid tackled him to the ground, but Andy was able to roll and take control.

"Buzz Lightyear to the rescue!"

"Wow," the toy Buzz rubbed his swirled chin, "The only thing lacking is the sexy voice."

Woody gave him a look. "Yes, well, if our previous owner had dressed up like me…"

Rex took off where he trailed off, "He'd say 'there's a snake in my boo-!"

Sid suddenly blasted him and he inexplicably lost his ability to ever speak again. **_Ever._**

"Finally!" Slinky declared.

Potato and Hamm danced around, while Bull's-eye and Jessie did the hoedown.

"Well," Sid faced Andy again.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna destroy your toys."

"Not if I have anything to do with it!" A little girl and her suddenly alive toys – all with pink masks concealing their eyes. Everyone gave each other odd looks at this. "Now I will go-"

"Bonnie, hon." Her grandmother came around and caught her under the arms. "Let's go."

"Yes," the mother added. "And call the psychologist while were at it."

"No." Sid said in a low voice. "Not again!"

Woody suddenly appeared before him, "Yes… Sid." He narrowed his eyes, "Again."

"WAAAAAAAAAA-AHHHHHHHH!"

Sid screamed loudly and ran out into the setting sun.

As he did, Tito caught him in a speeding garbage truck and then drove away.

Hannah drove by in Sid's Toyota truck, her teeth clenched and her knuckles bone white.

_"I'm still a bear, damn it!" _

A loud siren blared followed by an angry-looking cop in his cruiser.

"So?" Woody said reluctantly when Andy, Bonnie and the others turned to them all.

"Where to begin," Buzz grimaced, rubbing the back of his head.

Rex tried to speak.

"Oh, thank God." Ken whispered to Barbie who nodded in agreement.

Andy wrinkled his forehead and opened his mouth to speak…

To be continued…


	6. Diary 6, Session 1

**I. **

"So after you returned to bash Andy's toys about their heads, what did you do?"

Sid fiddled with his thumbs, grinning slightly, "I put my life-long obsession to rest."

"You're enrolled in a community college I hear?"

"Yeah, dentist assistant."

"And, uh," The psychologist pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up, "How did you do it?"

"Get into college?"

"No, uh, bash them about the head."

"Well," Sid grinned, "After I managed to convince the cop that that Andy kid had stolen that purple plush bear from Construct-a-Teddy, the guy 'legally' allowed me to use that little black bat thing cops never use anymore and beat the living crap out of those toys."

"And you say the toys were… evil?"

"Yes," Sid acknowledged casually, "Demon possession. I called Rev Stalks shortly after the ordeal to bliss that Bonnie girl's back yard. But I still said Andy stole the bear for her and… they didn't believe that much. At least that demon-toy owning child is in prison."

"Andy was good, you baddie man!" Bonnie cried.

"Quiet, Bonita, your mummy and I are getting therapy!"

From Sid, the line of red chairs went down the room.

These featured Bonnie, her mother, her grandmother; and a purple bear who didn't move.

"See that bear…" Sid pointed down at it ominously.

"Yes," The psychologist furrowed his gray-white eyebrows.

"That be the DEMON bear! He even talks too!"

"Hmm." Bonnie got up and squeezed it's circular stomach.

"I love you," it said in a deep voice.

"No! It says, 'I'm a bear, damnit!'"

"Well, maybe… we should try having separate interviews in the many chapters to come."

"You mean," Sid turned to him incredulously. "The author's going to… continue this!"

"Possibly through out the summer." He nodded.

"Well!" the twenty-five-year-old faced the ceiling. "She better come up with _good_ ideas."

Little did they know, the author was trying.

To be continued…


	7. Diary 7, Session 2

**A/N: **Finally, Lotso gets much needed therapy…

**I**.

"So," the psychologist raised his eye brows, "You're a bear?"

"Damn straight." Lot-so flicked a fuzzy finger his way.

"And would you say you're a normal, cuddly bear, Mr. Bear?"

"No," He drawled, "I'd say I was a bear with quite a big chip on my shoulder."

"And why is it?"

"It's this dang bingo chip that's stuck in meh stitchin'; it causes me to go plume loco!"

"Plume loco?"

"Plume loco!" Lot-so declared, flossing his teeth with some of his stitching.

"Would you say you have any suppressed tendencies to mentally abuse a baby doll?"

"Now WHY would you say that?" the bear inquired, picking out all of his stitching.

"Because we found this book on your person about mentally abusing baby dolls."

"Ha ha!" He laughed, finding just the right piece of thread. "Good-bye cruel world!"

Lot-so was ready to pull when Bonnie ran up to him. "Baby!" she snagged him before he could move once more. "Love is all you need!" and then tied him down to the long chair.

"By my own string no less!"

"All right," the therapist said, not sure what to say, "Do you want help or not?"

"Oh, we got help all right!" Sid grinned at him and brought in red and black cloaked men.

"And I've got help as well!" Lot-so shot back at the man.

"Hah! Uh… what'd you mean?"

"I mean," He whistled through his teeth. "My toy brethren will come and save me!"

In an instant, a moving tin-can, a piece of grape gum with arms and a praying mantis on a steroid – looking body came through the window. The group of religious men exchanged horrid looks and whipped out their woodened crosses and chalices of water. Lot-so stood.

"Don't get –," he zippered his paw across his thread, "_Strung _up."

"And don't count us out either!" Woody yelled, laughing as Andy and his toys followed.

"So," the blonde-haired seventeen-year-old boy directed his laser pointer down at Lot-so.

"So… what?"

"Prepare for battle!" Buzz jumped forward.

The groups readied themselves – for what else? Battle.

To be continued…


	8. Diary 8, Session 3

**I. **- The grand finale... I suppose.

"We are gathered here today..." Rev. Stalks started to speak. "To wed in holy union..."

.

"Uh, doc?"

.

"Yes, Sid."

.

"I believe you're heading a memorial, not a wedding." He winked at his accomplices.

.

Tito winked back. Bonnie rolled her eyes.

.

"Well, all right Mr. Phillips, you _are _paying me in advance." the reverend flipped a few pages and began again. "We are gathered here today to mourn the lost of Lots-'o-Hugs the bear. Also known as... I'm-a-bear-damnit. And uh..." he snapped his fingers. "The green lizard..."

.

"Rex." Woody voiced up, annoyed that they weren't more sorrowful for the toy.

.

"Honestly," Buzz turned to them all, unimpressed, "You call yourselves friends?"

.

"Dude," Sid turned to him, "Even his own _friends _wanted him whacked off. But, we cool?"

.

Everyone looked to Buzz for his answer. "Yeah," the spaceman nodded, "We aren't hot."

.

Soon everyone gathered for a hug of awkward sorts. Except for Lots... and Rex, of course. Yes, Rex didn't make it. Which is really, really, **_really _**unforunate because he was loved very dearly. Oh, yes, Rex will be dearly missed as a dearly departed palsy. Yes indeedie. He will.

.

...

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...

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* * *

...

...

...

.

*Six Flags theme song plays*

And everyone dances.

The end.

;)


End file.
